Planting in the Fall

Yesterday my granddaughter and I planted bulbs. Lots of them. 229 to be exact. Tulips and daffodils and hardy little purple crocuses.

Today it strikes me that planting bulbs in the fall is perhaps one of the greatest acts of faith that a gardener takes. Working the soil, dropping little nuggets of potential in the ground when all else is dying, when the leaves are falling, days are shorter, the wind is crisper and the temperature is dropping.

It is much easier to plant in the spring. Potential is in the air. We can see and breathe and touch the fact that new life is bursting everywhere. Reward is more eminent – the seeds planted in spring will germinate in a few short weeks. Bulbs, on the other hand, require 3 seasons, needing just enough warmth in the fall to get settled, the cold of the winter to harden them and the hint of spring to encourage them to emerge.

Yet the spring crocuses and tulips and daffodils are perhaps my greatest joy. As I long for color and beauty after the starkness of winter, here they come. Showing up in unexpected places and unknowable times – six, seven, even eight months after the work of planting them.

It causes me to wonder how often, when things appear to be in decline, do we continue to plant in what seems like hard ground? How often, when we are facing tough times, do we continue to do the work, plan for possibility, continue to seed even though it would appear almost impossible for something to grow, let along bloom far into the future?

I may be that in those bleak times, those times when we think it is futile – that we most need to work the soil, drop the seeds, cover them up and continue to do the work – trusting that at some time in the distant future, something beautiful will emerge from the cold and the darkness.

What seeds do you need to plant today?